


Magic and Mistletoe

by divine_dissatisfaction



Category: Ratched (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Fluff, May give you cavities, Mexico, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28303878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divine_dissatisfaction/pseuds/divine_dissatisfaction
Summary: December '49 - Mildred and Gwendolyn celebrate their first Christmas in Mexico.
Relationships: Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched
Comments: 22
Kudos: 82





	Magic and Mistletoe

The Mexican winter had come as a welcome relief to Mildred and Gwendolyn, the former in particular. The season had brought with it milder weather, for one: significantly cooler climes than the stiflingly hot summer before it had. They had moved to Mexico in the late spring, once all logistical planning had been settled, and their new home had warmly greeted them with the promise of a new start, a renewed hope, and perpetual sunshine. They had liked it at the time; the heat was like a baptism, cleansing them of everything that had happened before and leaving them pink and rosy like they’d taken a slightly-too-hot bath.

But, truthfully, the weather had taken a certain amount of adjustment. Mildred, for example, had found her thick auburn hair nigh on impossible to deal with in the humidity, and so she had cut it so it bobbed just above her shoulders. The style had been Gwendolyn’s suggestion, and – whilst it was the shortest her hair had been in some years – Mildred was overwhelmingly relieved to be free of her tresses. And as for Gwendolyn: she had begun her course of mistletoe therapy in earnest a month or so after they’d arrived, and was tentatively on the road to recovery. She had thrived in their new habitat, regaining some of the weight she’d lost through her chemotherapy and acquiring a new sparkle in her blue eyes and a spring in her step.

Now that December had arrived, milder and more temperate, the two women were settled in their new way of living. Now comfortable at their little condo, settled into their shared apartment, and on reasonably friendly terms with the neighbors, they could turn their thoughts to the month’s festivities. Christmas had never been a holiday of which Mildred was overly fond, but Gwendolyn’s boundless enthusiasm for the season was infectious, and she had let herself be dragged along with her as the pair of them prepared for their very first Yuletide together in Mexico.

They had driven further inland today, to a small Christmas tree forest. They walked together between rows of luscious green spruce, of varying sizes, closely tailed by the dusky-skinned, teenaged worker who would fell their chosen tree.

‘How about this one?’ Mildred asked, pointing to a tree that was around the height of her shoulder.

‘Too small,’ Gwendolyn replied with a shake of her head, walking on.

Mildred considered the rejected tree and tilted her head.

‘I’m thinking more this size,’ Gwendolyn called to her, several steps ahead. She was stood next to a spruce which towered over a foot above her, and Mildred’s mouth dropped open.

‘Do remember that we’ve got to get it home,’ she said, looking up at the top of the tree with a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

The older woman twisted her mouth to the side and gazed plaintively up at the tree, a little like a child who had been told “no” for the first time.

‘We only have to get it as far as the car,’ she offered.

‘Yes, and then off the car and into the apartment,’ Mildred countered, walking towards the woman with an amused smirk.

Gwendolyn shrugged, reaching wistfully towards the tree to run her fingers along the pine needles, but nodded.

‘Perhaps it’s a little big.’

The two women walked on, next to each other but several inches apart. Their well-rehearsed pretense of heterosexuality was almost second nature to them, these days. They were safe at the condo; it had been a prerequisite of their living there that it was a liberally-minded establishment (for finding a residence that would house two women in a one-bed apartment without raising a single eyebrow was by no means guaranteed). In the outside world, however, acceptance was not assured, and so they had to be careful. Today, should anyone ask - and, thus far, no one had - they were cousins, finding a tree for their poor, invalid grandmother.

‘This one?’ Mildred said, pointing to a tree on her left. It was a little taller than her previous suggestion, perhaps around six foot, and good and stout, with branches bursting with emerald needles.

Gwendolyn looked at it, tilting her head thoughtfully before a warm smile spread across her face.

‘It’s perfect,’ she whispered, stepping to inspect the specimen from every angle.

Mildred looked at the woman fondly as she performed a thorough investigation of the tree, gently manipulating the branches to check they were sturdy, brushing her fingertips over the needles, and watching them spring back afterward. Gwendolyn gave a firm nod, then turned to the worker behind them.

‘Esta, por favor,’ she said, gesturing to the tree with a grin.

‘Sí, claro,’ the worked replied gruffly, brandishing his saw and hunkering down by the tree’s trunk to get to work.

Once the tree had been felled, and shaken, and baled, the women let the workers strap it to the roof of their car with strong ropes. Then, they thanked them and settled the payment, and got into the car to drive away. Mildred got behind the wheel, giving the men a polite little wave as she pulled away down the dirt track leading to the main road. Gwendolyn sat next to her, practically vibrating with excitement.

* * *

With a certain amount of to-ing and fro-ing, grappling, and more than a few curse words from the pair of them, Mildred and Gwendolyn all but wrestled the tree through their front door and into their apartment. They maneuvered it over to the corner they’d selected earlier that day (they had marked it with a large blue ceramic pot, purchased by Gwendolyn during the week) and once it was in position, they cut away its roped confines and let the branches spring back into position.

Breathing heavily, the two women stood back to look at the tree, hands on their hips.

‘It’s just as well we didn’t get the bigger one,’ Mildred said, placing a hand over her chest.

‘We could have managed it,’ Gwendolyn said, playfully defensive, but at Mildred’s raised eyebrows, she added, ‘You’re probably right.’

The older woman stepped forward, crouching down to wrap her hands around the rim of the pot. Grimacing only a little, she shoved the tree a few inches or so to the right, so it sat more snugly in the corner. She stood up then, folding her arms and tilting her head momentarily, before nodding.

‘Happy?’ Mildred asked, grinning.

‘I’m stronger than I look, you know,’ Gwendolyn said, turning towards her with a smirk.

‘I don’t doubt it,’ the younger woman replied, watching as the older woman sauntered towards her with her arms folded.

Mildred swallowed, eyes flicking down shyly as Gwendolyn walked right up to her and placed a hand on either side of her waist. The younger woman placed her own hands over the elder woman’s, a small smile twitching against her lips.

‘Shall we decorate the tree before or after dinner?’ Gwendolyn asked, thumbs rubbing back and forth.

‘After,’ Mildred replied softly, ‘Unlike you, apparently, I need to get my strength up.’

Gwendolyn chuckled, leaned in to kiss her, then pulled away.

‘I’m so happy to be here, with you,’ she whispered, sincerely.

Mildred nodded, sniffing. There was a great deal of weight in that statement, and they both knew it.

They made dinner together, tucked away in the little alcove where their kitchen sat. Gwendolyn poured them both large glasses of red wine, and they sat down to eat at the small table by the fireplace, each in an armchair. They ate quietly, sipping their wine, and feeling their bodies warm both from the alcohol and from the roaring fire.

With dinner finished, Gwendolyn set a 45 playing on the record player, and soon Judy Garland was softly singing _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_. Mildred walked over to the little alcove across from the kitchen, where they had stashed all of their newly-purchased Christmas decorations (they had had to leave all of their old decorations back in California, much to Gwendolyn’s dismay, for, of course, they could only bring with them their most essential belongings). She carried the bags of ornaments, string lights, and tinsel, and dumped them on the bed. Carefully, she pulled out each decoration and laid them out. She was joined by Gwendolyn, who began detangling the strings of lights.

The lights went onto the tree first. Gwendolyn took charge of that, wrapping them around so they were evenly spread amongst the branches. Mildred took the lengths of tinsel, sparkling crimson and emerald, and draped them around the tree in the opposite direction, so they crisscrossed over the lights. With perhaps the trickiest task completed, the two women set about hanging the little ornaments, walking backward and forwards between the bed and the tree to hook them onto the branches. They worked together quietly, ensuring the decorations were evenly dispersed. There were little felt stockings, glass icicles which made tiny prisms dance on the walls, sparkling baubles, and silver bells which tinkled prettily when they were brushed against. Before too long, all that was left to do was to fix the star at the top of the tree, and Gwendolyn walked back over to the bed to pick it up and unwrap it from its paper packaging.

‘When I was a girl, my father used to put me on his shoulders so I could put the star at the top,’ she told Mildred as she walked back towards her.

Mildred smiled, a twinge stirring in her stomach at the reminder that she had no such happy memories. The pain from her childhood was still very much a part of her, though not quite as agonizing as it once was, pushed aside by the new memories she was making with Gwendolyn; it had reduced down to something like a splinter in the bottom of one’s foot, a subtle kind of pain that could almost be ignored until one put any kind of pressure on it.

‘Well, _I_ can’t put you on my shoulders, if that’s what you’re getting at,’ Mildred said, adjusting one of the baubles.

Gwendolyn hummed a laugh, stepping up beside her and holding the star out to her.

‘You can do the honors this year,’ she said, running her free hand up Mildred’s back and giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Mildred held the other side of the offered star but did not take it out of Gwendolyn’s grasp. She looked at it, at how it sparkled in the gentle lamplight, rubbing her thumb across one glittering point.

‘Together?’ she suggested, meeting Gwendolyn’s eyes.

The older woman grinned and nodded, and Mildred suspected she was secretly relieved that she was not required to completely relinquish her favorite part of decorating. Gwendolyn leaned forward, pecked Mildred’s lips with her own, then said, ‘Together.’

The two women held one side of the star each, standing up on their tiptoes to reach to fit it to the top of the tree. Once they were sure it was secured, they let go and brought their hands back to their sides, moving a few steps back from the tree to survey their handiwork.

‘Beautiful,’ Gwendolyn murmured, wrapping an arm around Mildred’s lower back and pulling her close, leaning their heads together.

‘Mm.’

‘Just like you.’

‘Oh, _stop_.’

Gwendolyn giggled, turning her head to kiss Mildred’s cheek. Then she moved away from her and held her hands out to her.

‘Dance with me,’ she asked.

‘But the song already finished,’ Mildred replied, ‘There’s no music.’

Gwendolyn shrugged but turned to walk over to the record player and set the song playing again. Then, she walked back to Mildred, slowly, swinging her hips and making her chuckle. She walked right up to her, took one of Mildred’s hands in her own, and held it against her chest, resting her other hand at her waist. She began slowly swaying them both, to and fro, and Mildred relaxed in her embrace; her free hand came to rest on Gwendolyn’s shoulder, right at the spot where it met her neck. She felt Gwendolyn’s other hand move from her waist across her lower back, and let herself be tugged closer to her, till the woman’s arm was wrapped right around her. She was pressed right against Gwendolyn’s front then and glanced down only momentarily to make sure she wasn’t in danger of standing on her toes. When she raised her head again, she rested her forehead against Gwendolyn’s, feeling the woman’s warmth envelop her and letting her eyes close.

‘So, Mildred,’ the older woman began in nearly a whisper, ‘What would you like for Christmas?’

The question took Mildred by surprise, and her eyes shot open. Gwendolyn felt her tense up in her arms and ran a soothing arm over her back.

‘I’d like to spoil you this year,’ she continued, her tone careful as she slowly rocked Mildred from foot to foot, ‘I’d like to get you something you really want.’

‘I -’ Mildred started, but faltered.

‘What is it you want, Mildred?’ Gwendolyn carried on, making her voice low and masculine, with a Northern twang, an impression of Jimmy Stewart, ‘What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down.’

Mildred hummed an uncertain laugh, tucked her head over Gwendolyn’s shoulder. She closed her eyes and gave the matter thought; it was a great many years since she could recall she had really wished for anything for Christmas. She winced, grip tightening on Gwendolyn’s shoulder, as she pictured a girl. A girl, of around six or seven, stood in front of a toy store. The girl’s mother, having not forsaken her yet, was standing beside her. She pictured the glass front of the store, and the toys on display: teddy bears, and train sets, and china dolls. She saw the girl point towards one of the toys with one hand, reaching for her mother’s hand with her other, before the woman told her “no” and dragged her away by her elbow. Mildred shivered. It had been snowing that day, she remembered, and her boots had holes in the soles. The wetness had soaked her small feet to the bone, and all she had received for Christmas that year was a fearsome cold.

‘Mildred?’ came Gwendolyn’s voice, ‘Mildred, I’m sorry. Are you with me?’

Mildred took a breath in, blinking a few times, bringing her consciousness back to the present.

‘A – a doll,’ she murmured, ‘I’d like a doll.’

Gwendolyn gently nudged Mildred’s chin off of her shoulder so she could look at her. She reached up with one hand, rested it along her jawbone, thumb rubbing gently over her skin.

‘Then a doll you shall have,’ she whispered.

Mildred managed to smile, leaning into the woman’s touch and letting it ground her. The prickles she had felt across her shoulders as she unearthed the memory slowly abated, and she felt a swelling in her chest at the knowledge that Gwendolyn _had_ her. Gwendolyn’s love, her embrace (even when she was not physically with Mildred, she still felt it), left her coated and warm, and whilst those memories would perhaps always try to pierce through, to get their claws into her, she found that they couldn’t take as firm a hold now. Rather, they scrabbled a while, and in failing to get any purchase, they left her alone.

‘I love you,’ she whispered to the woman, feeling tears threaten at the backs of her eyes.

‘I love you too,’ the woman murmured in response, nuzzling their noses together.

Gwendolyn adjusted her head slightly, and Mildred felt her warm breath against her lips. Before completely closing the gap, however, she took both of her hands and pulled away from her. Mildred blinked in surprise, but Gwendolyn grinned at her; with arms outstretched, she let go of one of Mildred’s hands so she could twirl her back into her again. Mildred giggled almost childishly as she returned to Gwendolyn’s embrace again, beaming up at her and watching the lights from the tree sparkle in her blue eyes. She wrapped both arms around the woman’s neck, rested her chin on her shoulder, and hummed as Gwendolyn wrapped her arms fast and sure around her lower back.

And they stayed like that, wrapped tightly in one another, until the song once again came to an end, and the only sound in the room was the soft whir of the turntable.

* * *

December was passing quickly, with so much to do in preparation for Christmas day. Mildred and Gwendolyn’s local village hummed with various festivities, and from the middle of the month, the posadas began; the couple spent many an evening strolling through the town square, watching families celebrate outside their homes as their children whacked star-shaped piñatas until they burst and released the candies concealed within. When a stall at the weekly market began selling poinsettias, Mildred had to restrain Gwendolyn (with a gentle hand on her elbow) from purchasing the entire stock. They ultimately bought two of the plants, one for each of them, placing one in the center of their dining table and the other on the table on their patio. Mildred thought the plants quite lovely, with their deep scarlet leaves blooming amongst dark emerald.

The morning of Christmas Eve saw them take another walk into town, to the Nacimiento situated outside the church. They noted the new addition in the manger, a cherubic baby Jesus who gazed lovingly upwards at his mother María through carved wooden eyes. Gwendolyn pulled Mildred close, made sure she was okay, smiled when the woman relaxed against her. They went to buy groceries then, for Gwendolyn wished to try her hand at ponche navidaño in the evening, and they needed fruit and spices.

Later, back at their apartment and dressed for bed, with the windows and doors left open to hear the music from the perpetual celebrations drifting over the evening air, the women knelt on the floor with the bed between them to conceal each of them from the view of the other. With limited secluded spaces available in their apartment, they had decided they would wrap each other’s presents this way, swearing solemnly that there would be no peeking. A stockpot simmered on the stove in the kitchen, the contents filling the air with the warm aroma of fruit and spice.

Mildred cast her eyes over the gifts she had wrapped for Gwendolyn, nibbling on her lower lip. So unaccustomed was she to having someone to buy gifts for that she was starting to feel a great amount of anxiety that she hadn’t bought enough (and when asked what she wanted, Gwendolyn had blithely answered “just you, my darling” which had been no help whatsoever). Really, she thought, nothing would ever be enough. No material possession would ever come close to the riches that Gwendolyn deserved. Mildred looked out of the window, at the darkening sky, and the moon as it rose above the sea. Her mind turned to starry visions of her throwing a rope around it and tugging it down, hanging it to shine over Gwendolyn always. For Gwendolyn was like the moon, in some ways; a gentle beacon glowing through the darkness, patiently remaining through Mildred’s high tides and low tides.

‘How’s it going over there?’ came Gwendolyn’s voice from across the bed.

Mildred stacked each gift, four in total, in a small pile. She folded up the unused sheets of wrapping paper and lengths of ribbon, placing them on her nightstand along with the pair of scissors she’d used.

‘I’ve finished,’ she said.

‘So have I,’ the older woman replied happily.

The two women stood up with their gifts in their arms and walked over to the tree to lay them out at the base of it. With that task settled, the pair of them turned towards the kitchen.

‘The punch should be ready,’ Gwendolyn whispered, kissing Mildred’s forehead before walking over to the stove to take the bubbling creation off the heat. She fetched two mugs from one of the cupboards and ladled equal helpings of the punch into each of them. Mildred walked over to the woman as she held one of the mugs out to her and gratefully took it, wrapping her hands around it and breathing in the heady scent.

It was decidedly night-time now, and the air had turned chill, so Gwendolyn closed the doors and windows, drawing the curtains across them. She then lit the fire, and the pair of them sat in front of it in their armchairs, sipping from their mugs carefully so as not to burn their tongues.

‘This is good,’ Mildred said after a while, pointing to her half-empty mug with one index finger.

Gwendolyn nodded proudly, sipping from her own mug and closing her eyes for a moment. Mildred glanced at her wristwatch: there was an hour and a half left till midnight, till Christmas day. She felt a bubble of excitement in her stomach at the thought of it, despite her lukewarm feelings towards the holiday itself; the thought of seeing Gwendolyn on Christmas day, seeing her so happy and bright, was enough for her to push her own feelings of unease aside and replace them with ones of anticipation.

They each finished their drinks in companionable silence, placing their empty mugs on the table in between them, alongside the poinsettia. Mildred sat back in her chair, wrapped her arms around herself, and tucked her feet up underneath her.

‘Cold, my love?’ Gwendolyn asked her.

‘A little,’ Mildred admitted, tugging her silk robe further around herself.

Gwendolyn stood up from her chair, then dragged the table back a meter or so from the fireplace. She then walked over to their bed and plucked two of the cushions from it, as well as the quilt lying over the sheets. She carried everything back over, dropping the cushions to the floor in front of the fire and shaking out the quilt.

‘Come sit by the fire,’ she told Mildred gently, offering the quilt to her.

Mildred nodded, unfolding herself from her chair and crouching down on the floor in front of the fire, sitting cross-legged on one of the cushions. Gwendolyn sat down next to her, then wrapped the quilt around the both of them, pulling Mildred snugly against her with an arm around her shoulders, and leaning her cheek against the top of her hair.

‘Better?’ she asked.

‘Better,’ Mildred murmured, wrapping her arms around the woman’s lower back and tucking her head under her chin.

She felt Gwendolyn shift position slightly, bringing one arm around her so she could check her wristwatch.

‘We don’t have to stay up till midnight, you know,’ she said, noting that Mildred had closed her eyes.

‘But you want to,’ Mildred countered, nuzzling further against the woman’s chest.

‘Well -’ Gwendolyn started in protest, before conceding, ‘Yes. But you don’t have to.’

‘I want to,’ the younger woman replied, on a yawn, ‘It’ll be fun.’

‘Darling, you’re barely conscious,’ Gwendolyn chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

‘I’m _awake_ ,’ Mildred grumbled, tilting her head up to clumsily peck Gwendolyn’s lips.

The older woman brought a hand up to rest on Mildred’s cheek, thumb stroking back and forth.

‘Are you sure?’ she whispered, eyes flicking from Mildred’s to her lips and back up again.

Mildred nodded with a sleepy smile.

‘I’m sure,’ she said, placing her hand on top of Gwendolyn’s.

The older woman beamed at her, and kissed her again, before letting the younger woman rest her head back against her chest.

‘Besides, I have an idea about how we could stay awake,’ Mildred murmured, one hand fiddling idly with the buttons of Gwendolyn’s pajama top.

‘Is that so?’ Gwendolyn replied, running gently fingertips through the woman’s hair.

Mildred hummed a confirmation, moving her head from the other woman’s chest, craning her neck a little to look up at her. She reached up with one hand to hold the side of her face, and Gwendolyn looked down at her for a moment. Then, she gave the tiniest nod and moved her head down to kiss her. They kissed each other slowly, softly, hands moving to hold each other close. After a moment, Gwendolyn pulled away, reached to tuck a strand of Mildred’s hair behind her ear.

‘Was this what you had in mind?’ she asked in a whisper.

Mildred tutted thoughtfully, grasping Gwendolyn’s chin so she could press a small kiss to the underside of her jaw. She then gripped Gwendolyn’s shoulders and moved over her, placing one knee on either side of her hips. The quilt had slipped off their shoulders, but neither of them seemed to notice. Rather, they fell backward together, the pillows creating a soft landing. Gwendolyn stretched on her back, with Mildred on all fours above her, caging her between her hands and knees. She beamed up at the woman, bringing her hands up to rest on her hips.

‘This is more what I had in mind,’ Mildred said gently, looking down at her right hand as she ran it slowly up the other woman’s side, ‘If you’d like.’

‘I _would_ like,’ Gwendolyn replied with a chuckle, moving her hands to the woman’s waist, feeling the muscles stretch beneath her nightdress as she breathed.

Mildred leaned down then, pressed a slow kiss to Gwendolyn’s lips and then to her cheek, then along her jawbone. She moved her mouth to the woman’s neck, trailing down the front of it, bringing her hands up to toy with the collar of her pajama top. At Gwendolyn’s small nod, she undid the first button, pressing a kiss to the new inch of exposed skin.

Gwendolyn closed her eyes, letting Mildred move her hands and mouth where they may as she slowly unbuttoned her top. Her skin was warmed by the heat of the fire beside them, and by the other woman’s lips and tongue as they pressed eager caresses over her breasts and between them, down the center of her stomach.

Mildred crawled back over her, pausing to kiss her again, deeply, as she moved one hand down to cup Gwendolyn through her pajama pants. The older woman gasped as that hand moved slowly, grinding against her in little circles. Mildred ghosted her lips over hers, temptingly close but applying no pressure, as her fingertips danced along the waistband of her pants. Gwendolyn kissed her, gave her an encouraging little moan, and Mildred slipped her fingers beneath the elastic, dragging them downwards, and then parting her gently with them.

Gwendolyn cried into Mildred’s mouth when those fingers finally brushed against her clit, moving torturously slowly. She cradled the woman’s face in her hands, kissing her fiercely as she exhaled in little pants through her nose. Mildred moved her fingers faster, rubbing a little harder, breaking away from Gwendolyn’s lips so she could look at her, could hear her desperate little whimpers.

When Mildred finally pushed two fingers inside of her, curling and uncurling them and stealing her breath from her lungs with each slow movement, Gwendolyn almost sobbed. Mildred kept her thumb pressed to her clit, moving it assuredly in determined circles as her middle and ring fingers delved deeper into her wet warmth. She pressed little kisses to the woman’s forehead, her temples. She moved down and lingered over her pulse point, then dragged her lips down her neck and finished at her shoulder.

Gwendolyn arched into her when she came, shuddering against her and clawing at her shoulders with trembling hands. Mildred was quiet, breathing heavily and looking down at her hand as she gently withdrew her wet fingers and dragged them slowly up Gwendolyn’s bare stomach. She kept her eyes on the older woman, watched her eyebrows quirk as she brought those fingers up to her own mouth and slipped them inside, closing her lips around them and then withdrawing them slowly.

‘Mm,’ she hummed, bottom lip drawing between her teeth as she grinned at Gwendolyn.

‘ _Mildred_ ,’ Gwendolyn exclaimed in false consternation.

‘What?’ Mildred challenged, leaning down to kiss her again, ‘You taste good.’

Gwendolyn sighed as their lips melded together, shivering as she tasted herself on Mildred’s tongue. She wrapped her arms over her back, pulling her down till she was flush against her body, laughing through her nose at the woman’s squeak of surprise. She pulled away after a while, once her body had returned to her. She ran her hands down Mildred’s sides, settling them at her hips and rubbing her thumbs back and forth over the silk of her nightgown.

‘I have an idea,’ she murmured, ‘Do you trust me?’

Mildred looked at her, rested a hand on the top of her chest.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I trust you.’

Gwendolyn nodded, reaching to stroke a hand down the side of Mildred’s face, smiling when the woman leaned into her touch.

‘I want you,’ she began, gripping Mildred’s hips, ‘To come here.’

Mildred tilted her head, a little crease appearing between her eyebrows.

‘Sit,’ Gwendolyn continued, pointing to her mouth with one index finger, ‘Here.’

Mildred’s eyes followed Gwendolyn’s finger, widening as the realization dawned on her.

‘I’m – I’m too heavy,’ she said feebly, ‘I’ll squash you.’

Gwendolyn reached over her shoulder, gripped the seat of the armchair behind her.

‘Hold onto this. You won’t squash me.’

Mildred still felt uncertain, nervous even, but something about the way Gwendolyn was looking at her, hands firm and safe against her hips, made her push those feelings aside. She lifted herself to her knees and shuffled forward. She stopped when she was hovering around Gwendolyn’s shoulders, feeling her cheeks heat.

‘It’s okay,’ Gwendolyn soothed, gathering the skirts of her nightgown and giving them to her to hold out of the way, ‘I’ve got you.’

The older woman slipped her hands under the younger woman’s gown then, fingertips pressing into the flesh at the sides of her hips, flexing against her.

‘I’m stronger than I look, remember?’ she added with an arched eyebrow.

Mildred giggled, and relaxed, letting some of her weight fall back into Gwendolyn’s strong hands and the rest of it fall forward to the armchair. She gripped the edges of the seat, keeping a hold of her skirt with one hand. She shifted until her elbows were resting on it, then allowed herself one look down, at Gwendolyn’s head between her thighs, and blushed fiercely at the sight of it.

Gwendolyn smiled up at her, eyes crinkling, giving her left hip a comforting squeeze.

‘Just relax,’ she instructed, ‘I’ve got you.’

Mildred nodded, fingertips scratching back and forth over the rough material of the armchair. She took a few breaths in, as Gwendolyn’s breath came warm over her, as her hands moved round to grasp the backs of her thighs. Her eyes slid shut, and she found she’d stopped breathing.

But when Gwendolyn finally kissed her, where she was aching for her, she exhaled with a moan. Her head flopped forward to her forearms, and she bit into her bottom lip, as the woman worked magic with her lips and tongue. Her hips canted forward, involuntarily, and Gwendolyn responded by tightening her grip on her thighs, fingers and thumbs pressing into the flesh and keeping her in position.

‘Oh, Gwen-Gwen-Gwen,’ she whimpered, stomach muscles seizing in pleasure as the woman closed her lips around her clit.

Gwendolyn hummed in response, the vibration sending a shot of electricity through Mildred and making her jerk. She moved her hands to the woman’s hips, keeping her steady as she flicked her tongue over the little nub and then delivered languid strokes down through her folds.

Mildred tensed her fingers, whimpering, whispering explicit little things that only came out of her mouth when they were like this, together. Gwendolyn’s hands moved from her hips to her buttocks, settling at the sides of them. She let the woman manipulate her lower torso, gently guiding it down to her eager mouth.

Whether it was simply the added gravity from this new position that added a whole other stratospheric layer of pleasure, Mildred couldn’t be sure, but she could feel her peak hurtling towards her at an alarming rate. She pressed her forehead harder into her arms, her face screwing up, as Gwendolyn’s tongue flicked and swirled through her, her fingertips pressing oh so insistently into the skin of her thighs. That tension started rising within her, growing and swelling like the crest of a wave, lifting her higher and higher until she was amongst the stars. Gwendolyn, in knowing her body so well now, knew just the way to keep her teetering torturously at the edge. She flicked her tongue quickly yet lightly over the top of her clit, moaning with the effort of it before she finally closed her lips over the aching bundle and sucked hard. And Mildred let out a strangled sob as her hips shuddered beyond her control, as her spent body racked with the strength of her release.

Gwendolyn pressed little kisses to the insides of her thighs, bringing her back to earth, fingers tracing soothing circles over her skin. Then, she slid out from underneath her carefully, sitting up behind her and opening her arms for the woman to fall against her. She cooed softly, wrapping her arms around Mildred and pressing kisses to the sides of her neck, feeling her chest rapidly rise and fall as she fought to get air back into her lungs.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked, as she always did, tucking her head over the woman’s shoulder.

Mildred nodded, grabbing one of Gwendolyn’s hands and squeezing it, giving an exhausted little laugh.

The two women sat like that for a moment, tuning into the crackling sounds of the fire beside them. But then, the distant sound of bells sounded over the night air, muffled by their closed windows.

Gwendolyn let out a delighted gasp, leaping to her feet and hauling Mildred up along with her. She fastened the buttons of her pajama top quickly, with fumbling fingers, stepping over to one of the windows. She lifted the latch and pushed the window wide open, paying no heed to the chill breeze that drifted into their apartment. Mildred stood alongside her, rested her head against her shoulder, and the two of them listened to the church bells as they chimed midnight.

‘Merry Christmas, my darling,’ Gwendolyn murmured, nuzzling against Mildred’s hair.

Mildred smiled, wrapping her arms around the woman’s waist and looking out of the window at the moon and stars illuminating the night’s inky blackness.

‘Merry Christmas,’ she replied.

* * *

Christmas Day saw the two women spend a significant amount of the morning tangled up in each other between the sheets before they finally hauled themselves out of bed and made breakfast. Mildred jiggled her knee as she poked at her scrambled eggs, which did not go unnoticed by Gwendolyn, who placed a comforting hand on top of it.

With breakfast eaten, they walked over to sit down on the floor by the tree, laying their gifts out in front of them. Gwendolyn kissed Mildred after unwrapping each of her gifts: a bar of gardenia-scented soap, a small leather-bound book of poetry, a fawn-colored linen pantsuit, and a delicate silver necklace with a small onyx pendant.

‘It’s supposed to give strength,’ Mildred said of the gemstone, recalling her conversation with the man in the boutique she’d patronized. He had talked her through the range of gemstones they had for sale, amethyst and sapphire and emerald amongst others, and had explained to her in his mellifluous accent about all the properties they supposedly possessed. Mildred had liked the onyx the best; it was simple, straightforward, yet quite beautiful when examined closely.

‘I love it. Thank you,’ Gwendolyn breathed, leaning forward to kiss Mildred for the fourth time, ‘Put it on me. Please?’

Mildred nodded with a grin, taking the necklace and looping it around Gwendolyn’s neck, fastening the clasp at the space between her shoulders. The older woman turned to her then, hands splayed at either side of her collarbones, displaying her new accessory.

‘How does it look?’ she asked, beaming.

‘It looks beautiful,’ Mildred answered, ‘You look beautiful.’

Gwendolyn tutted fondly, squeezing Mildred’s shoulder.

‘It’s your turn now,’ she said, clapping her hands together and looking down at Mildred’s gifts. She reached for one of them, a rather bulky one, and pulled it to the side of her, ‘Save this one till last.’

Mildred nodded, blinking nervously, before reaching for her first gift. She unwrapped, in turn, a new string of pearls (which she got Gwendolyn to put on her straight away, paying no heed to the fact that they hardly went with her nightgown), a bottle of Robert Piguet Visa (which was immediately applied to her wrists and behind her ears), and a new pair of silk gloves.

‘Gwendolyn,’ she said, almost scolding, ‘This is all so expensive.’

‘Now, none of that,’ the older woman admonished, ‘It’s nothing you don’t deserve.’

Mildred nodded, smiling shyly, fingertips toying with the pearls of her new necklace.

‘And now,’ Gwendolyn began, with a dramatic flair, ‘For your final present.’

Mildred giggled, holding out her hands for the gift as Gwendolyn handed it to her. It felt heavy in her hands, and she couldn’t imagine what it was, and she stopped herself before she told Gwendolyn off again. She settled herself on the floor, crossing her legs, and began peeling back the wrapping paper.

When Gwendolyn’s final gift was revealed to her, she stopped breathing.

It was a china doll, in a wooden display box. She had dark hair, twisting into little ringlets at the sides of her heart-shaped face. Her eyes were large, and brown, framed by delicately-painted black eyelashes. Her pink cheeks were plump, and the little rosebud mouth beneath her button nose pursed prettily into a hint of a smile. Mildred ran her fingers down the bridge of the doll’s nose, and then down to the smooth material of her dress. It was a dark red, gathered in at the waist by a silk ribbon, the skirts flaring outwards. On her feet were a simple pair of red satin ballet slippers. Mildred took a shaking breath in.

‘I know it won’t be like the one you wanted, but – I thought she was awfully pretty,’ Gwendolyn said softly.

Mildred looked away from the doll, and at Gwendolyn. Her vision blurred as tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

‘Do you like it, darling?’ the older woman asked, beginning to look nervous.

Without a word, Mildred put the doll down, and crawled towards Gwendolyn, and clambered into her lap. She wrapped her arms around her, tightly, and pressed desperate kisses to her forehead and her cheeks. Gwendolyn laughed, wrapping her arms around her lower back and holding her tightly.

‘I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?’ she murmured, as Mildred looked at her again. She reached up to cup the woman’s face, easing her tears away with her thumbs.

‘Thank you,’ Mildred choked, ‘Gwendolyn, I – thank you.’

‘You’re welcome, darling.’

And the rest of the day passed quietly for them both. They had Christmas lunch at the restaurant, and in the afternoon, they took a walk down to the beach neighboring the condo, the pair of them exchanging gleeful “¡Feliz Navidad!”s with any individual who crossed their path. There, perched on a rock in front of the cliffs towering above them, they watched the ocean waves together. Gwendolyn rested her head against Mildred’s shoulder, reading to her from her new book of poetry, and Mildred trailed gentle fingers through her hair. The chill breeze whipped around her face, but she found she didn’t mind it. With Gwendolyn, she could never feel cold.

And when Gwendolyn asked her later, when they were cuddled together and drowsy beneath the sheets in bed, whether she’d had a good Christmas, Mildred could honestly say that she had. She pulled the woman closer to her, grinning as she mumbled something lovingly unintelligible against her chest.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered into Gwendolyn’s hair.

‘Wha’ for?’

Mildred kissed the top of her head, smiling as the woman nuzzled her chest in response.

‘For everything.’

**Author's Note:**

> I gotta shout out to my good pal itbloomedforyourlittlegirl for giving me the idea of Gwendolyn's gift to Mildred. You have her to thank for that.
> 
> Happy holidays! I hope you enjoyed my lil Christmas offering.
> 
> As always, come yell at me about Mildolyn on either of the following:  
> Twitter - @LauraKatharineX  
> tumblr - laura-katharine


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